


Untranslatable Words

by septicat



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Depression, Fluff, GAY THINGS ARE A'HAPPENING HERE, I guess you could call this a dramatic retelling of my own experience with abuse, Ireland, LA, LOTS OF MAN SEX, M/M, Septiplier - Freeform, Shameless Smut, This one is gonna be long, abuse cycle, also man cuddles, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:17:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4766372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septicat/pseuds/septicat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I will never tell you what it's like to live my life waiting for the phone call that you finally did it.<br/>I will never tell you how much I've suffered because of you.<br/>I will never tell you that my happiness depends on yours.<br/>I will never tell you how many times I've thrown away beautiful things for you.<br/>I will never tell you that I live my life in constant fear of that goddamned phone call,<br/>Confirming that no matter what I did, it still wasn't enough to save you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opia

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. It's roommate. Not Septicat, today.
> 
> I wanted to write this as sort of a therapeutic piece, something to work through the residual abuse related PTSD left over from the man I used to love more than anything else in the world.
> 
> I want you guys to know that everything you're about to read here is a direct retelling of my experience being trapped in the abuse cycle. Please, if any of you recognize signs from this piece in your own relationship, reach out for help, even if its to myself at MarkSeptiKae on Tumblr or Septicat herself here on AO3 or on Tumblr.
> 
> Please enjoy this, and thanks for letting me get everything out.
> 
> [Extra Note: As the piece is called Untranslatable Words, at the end of each chapter there will be an untranslatable word that represents what happened in each chapter. I unfortunately forgot to write down what language each word is in, and I should have, so if you're curious, please comment and I promise I'll get back to you with the language!]

I always used to turn around and look over my shoulder at you, just to make sure you were there. As long as I could see you smiling, I knew that everything was okay.

And it was, until one day it wasn't, and you had taken off to chase fantasies of an ideal happiness in your head. You followed them to a different world on the other side of the ocean, far away from me.

I mean, I eventually followed you, but I think I’m getting ahead of myself here.

But where the fuck do I start?

The first time I ever laid eyes on you was in a coffee shop, if that isn’t cliché enough. It may have been the only cliché thing there was about us, though, so I suppose it’s something I’m not embarrassed to tell other people at parties. 

And god, it was a shitty coffee shop. It reminded me of the ones in movies, with one brick wall and mismatched arm chairs that came right out of a 70’s sitcom. The sound of what was probably Norah Jones’ Pandora station echoed through the room. The only thing that was missing on a daily basis was a teenager in a beanie, working on her novel. 

There was absolutely nothing spectacular about the place, but they made good coffee, so I kept coming back. 

You, however, were a refreshing sight to see in the expansive, depressing room.

You were standing at the back of the line when I walked in the door, and I queued up behind you unceremoniously, patting my pocket to make sure I hadn’t left my wallet at home in the fashion of the previous Monday. I wasn’t paying you much attention as you ordered, considering my own drink for the morning and coming to the conclusion of chai tea, just like yesterday. 

I always looked for something different, but always settled on the same thing. Fuck, how many areas of my life did that describe? 

Your back was to me as you paid for your drink, with a slim silver card that matched your hair in color, but then you turned to slide your wallet back into your pocket, and my heart stopped.

I was met with a set jawline peppered with a light scruff, a thin, sloping nose, and long eyelashes that covered your eyes, making it impossible for me to see their color. You were looking down, fishing around in your pocket for change to drop into the tip jar with a slight frustrated bite to your bottom lip that knocked the breath out of me. I watched you with the same consideration I would have given the hope diamond or the seven wonders of the world all at once. I was fucking transfixed by you immediately, frozen into place as you smiled at the brunette that had taken your order and took a step away from the front of the line.

The impatient patron behind me coughed under their breath and pulled me out of the trance your gliding walk had me in as you made your way to the other end of the counter to await your drink. Coming back to myself, I approached the cashier.

“Uh, Venti Chai, please.” 

I absentmindedly paid for my drink as my peripheral vision followed your outline to a table. My fingers were fumbling coins as you sat down, facing the room, which I would later come to learn was due to your uneasiness towards people being directly behind you. 

The wait for my drink at the other end of the counter seemed like an eternity as I tried everything I could to make myself anything but a focal point, the lone person standing in the middle of the room. The thought of you looking at me was enough to make me nervous. 

I think I scared the hell out of the barista when I practically snatched my tea out of her hand, throwing a mumbled “thank you” over my shoulder and making my way to the table as far away from you as possible.

You’d never hear me say it, but your presence in the room displaced me more than I would ever admit. It’s beyond me if you were even looking at me at that point, but you might have been, and it left me acutely aware of what I was doing. If anything, I was making such a fool out of myself that you were watching me and laughing to yourself with that snicker under your breath I eventually grew to love so much.

 

The only thing I had to distract myself from looking at you was a newspaper neatly folded up on the table beside mine. I reached for it as calmly as I could and opened it, pretending I wasn’t putting up a barrier between the two of us so that I could calm down. 

Don’t children do that shit? If I can’t see you, you can’t see me? 

I peeked around the edge of the paper anyway after boring myself with an article on the upcoming presidential election. You were looking down at your phone, leaned over the edge of the table with a very serious look on your face. It wasn’t but a few seconds before your other hand wrapped around your phone and you were typing out a reply. I watched you as you hit send, sighed, and reached for your coffee. 

Your chin tilted upwards just slightly, as if you were about to look up and catch my eye, and I panicked, shoving the open paper in my hands between us once more. What could I look interested in, here? New city hall being built, local soccer team wins state, you sitting across the room from me? 

My gaze made its way warily around the side of the paper once more, and I slightly folded the right edge towards my body to better see you. This time, you were somewhat blankly making a study of the slowly moving line at the bar. When you began to scan the room, your eyes wandering closer and closer to me, I snapped the paper back in front of my face.

Fuck. Fuck, I was like a nervous teenager. 

I squeezed my eyes shut for the shortest of seconds and reopened them to the wide display of ink on paper in front of me. Staring past the letters rather than at them, I began to debate with myself whether or not it was worth it to talk to you. 

What was the worst that could happen? You could be an absolute ass, sure, but then at least I would have gotten up and said something before you finished your coffee and my chance was over. Wasn’t that something one of those philosophers said, “take your chances while you have them”? 

No, I couldn’t let this chance pass. A surge of adrenaline and nervousness spread through my body as I steeled myself to lower the paper in front of my face, stand up as calmly and controlled as possible, and saunter my way over to you with confidence. 

“Hello,” I’d say. “I’m Mark. I haven’t seen you here before.” 

No, no. Maybe a compliment. Maybe something along the lines of “I couldn’t help but notice your jacket, it looks great on you!” 

Jesus, that sounds desperate. Just a hello would have to suffice. I could do that. I could say hello, right? What did I really have to lose? My hands gripped the edge of the paper and lowered it from between us in a manner that was probably a little bit too confident and decided, and there you were, already sitting at my table, in the chair across from me. 

Vivid, sparkling blue eyes stared me down, turning up at the edges with your smile.

I was fucking dumbfounded as you smiled and reached out your hand to shake mine. 

“Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you making a study of me,” you said, and god, your voice matched your appearance perfectly. I extended my own hand to take yours and you gave it a firm but friendly shake. You smiled, settled back in your seat, and looked me directly in the eye with a knowing, devilish smile. 

“I’m Jack.” You said. “It’s really nice to meet you.” 

**Opia: _The intensity of looking someone in the eye for the first time._ **


	2. Koi No Yokan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again for round two, ladies and gentlemen. 
> 
> I remember when this actually happened between A and I. 
> 
> I really struggled to portray what it really felt like to be in that moment. I hope I did a good job.

If our conversation that afternoon had lasted all day long, it still wouldn't have been enough.

I'm not trying to pull any "love at first sight" bullshit here, but I swear you made it feel like we had known each other for years. There was no awkwardness between us as you told me tidbits about your life, namely your short time here in Los Angeles. 

We talked about my thick plaid sweater ("So early in the year for that," You had exclaimed), your favorite drinks to order at tacky coffee shops, and Ireland, your home country. Conversely, I told you about my secret love for the countryside over the city, my friends here in Los Angeles, and my preference for shades of green over those of red.

You offered me a sip of your drink when I wondered aloud what your complicated coffee order tasted like, and then you laughed and told me that my own Chai Tea tasted like alfalfa.

God, that laugh. It echoed beautifully off of the brick walls of the corner we sat in, both leaning across the table to excitedly talk in the politely hushed voices a coffee shop demanded. I found myself going out of my way to be funny, but not in order to impress you. 

Just to hear you laugh. 

It took over your whole body, your head thrown back as you lost control of your volume level, complete with a smile split across your face, and fuck, it ruined me.

Eventually, you stood, leaning over to dispose of your empty cup and offering to take mine. I was immediately a bit despondent, because I knew it meant you were also about to reach for your jacket and say your goodbyes. A small smile crossed my face to hide my disappointment as I handed you my own empty paper cup, and our fingers brushed, just barely. 

"Hey," you said. "Hey, I think I've gotta get going, man. Prior commitments and all that shit, you know." 

My chair loudly scraped the floor as I slid it back to stand and prepare to say goodbye. As if the universe was out to get me, some emotional, guitar-heavy song came spilling out of the speakers, to set the stage perfectly for our parting.

Fuck you, Norah Jones.

"No, I understand," I replied. "It was really nice meeting you, though. Made this shitty coffee shop infinitely more fun." I didn't need to look to see the nasty glare from the barista closest to us - she was doing just a fine job burning it through my skin from across the room. You laughed and turned to speak again after shrugging your jacket over your shoulders.

"Do you think we should exchange information, though? We could do this again. I mean, if you want to. Don't want to pressure you int-"

"No," I interrupted you, a little too quickly. "No, lets do that. Let me write my number down for you." My hand wandered over to the napkin on our table, and somehow, you produced a pen out of your pocket without a word, offering it to me with a smile. I'll readily admit to the incredulous look I shot you in that moment.

"Waiter," You announced, as if it was a response to my questioning stare. "We always have pens on us. It's kind of part of the job description." 

There it was again, that laugh.

"It was really nice, though, spending the afternoon with you," you finished. Long, skinny fingers reached out for the napkin my own had offered, with my full name and phone number on it. "I'll text you later?" 

After agreeing to your suggestion and saying our goodbyes, I sank back down into the chair beneath me as the glass door closed behind you. I hadn't shook your hand again before you left - even the short time we had spent together had made me feel close enough to you that a parting handshake would have been too formal. Instead, I'd gently clapped a hand over your shoulder and left you with a smile.

The atmosphere of the room came back to me all at once as I settled back into my seat. Everything was just as it was before - the line still moving at a relatively quick pace, the girl sitting by the window still nose deep into her book, the baristas paying more attention to making coffee than giving you the attention you deserved as you commanded the room. It was almost as if no one had even noticed the two of us had been sitting there. 

I sighed, wondering what the fuck I'd gotten myself into with you. 

It hadn't been fifteen minutes before my phone buzzed in my pocket, lit up with a number I didn't recognize.

"Hey," the text read. "It's Jack."

I leaned forward, hunched over the edge of the table, reading your words carefully.

"A few of my buddies and I are playing Ultimate Frisbee Tuesday evening at Jackson Morrow Park," it continued. "You're welcome to join us. Be there at 6 PM! And hey, man, thanks again for a great time." 

A sense of pride ripped through my body with the confirmation that you had, indeed, had just as wonderful of a time as I had. My fingers clicked back a response quickly, agreeing to your proposal, and come Tuesday, I found myself driving into the parking lot to meet you for a game of frisbee. 

"Shit," I thought, glancing at the time displayed on my dashboard. 6:15 PM. Cursing traffic, I tore into a parking spot and climbed out of my car, looking around desperately for you over the rolling hills of the expansive park. You, of course, were nowhere to be found. 

Birds echoed as I wandered through the grass, glancing between crowds of people to find you. Families chased after children through the playground, and a couple sat at the base of a large tree, carving into the bark what was probably their initials with a fucking heart around it as if we lived in a perpetual state of "Romance Novel". 

There's no such thing as finding perfect love, kids. No need to harm nature in the process. 

"Mark, hey!" 

Your voice came from the left of me, at a distance, and I turned to see you running towards me. A smile spread across your face as you waved your arm to get my attention, and it took approximately a sixty-fourth of a second for me to realize that you weren't wearing a goddamned shirt. Once again dumbfounded, I raised my hand up in the air as a greeting as you closed the space between us. 

"I'm sorry I'm late. L.A. traffic is killer about this time. I got stuck over by the depot off of the highway for like, twenty minutes." You came to a stop from your run in front of me. Your chest reflected the sunlight in the glistening sweat covering your skin, and Jesus, I wasn't going to be able to focus long enough to play this game. "Looks like you guys got started already. I can sit this round out for you to finish if you want."

"No need," you chirped. "We were just practicing. Trying to prepare ourselves for the awesome game I'm sure you play. We're over here, follow me!" 

You introduced me to your group of friends and I was unceremoniously sorted into the "shirts" team, as your "skins" team was already full, to my dismay. The game went by quicker than I would have liked as my team racked up another loss to yours. When someone on your team called a 15 minute break, I excused myself to go to my car and check my phone. 

I wasn't expecting you to come trotting along after me. 

"Hey, great game!" You shouted from behind me as you ran up to me on the path to the parking lot. "Even if you guys lost every round."

"Shut up, Jack." The distance between us closed once again as you slowed your step to fall in line with my own. The sun was setting around us like the universe was going out of its way to fuck with me, and the shadows laid across your face were beautiful. "Do you guys come out here often?" 

"No, we just started coming out here recently. I've explored this park since I got here a few months ago, though." You reached out to point to a cluster of trees to our right. "My favorite tree is actually in those woods over there. Sometimes, I go out there just to read. It wasn't until maybe two weeks ago that I noticed that flat field over there from my perch. Perfect place for a game." 

Curiosity flooded through my body as my direction changed. Whatever was on my phone couldn't possibly be as important as some potential one on one time with you. You called after me as I made my way to the woods you had pointed me towards. 

"I wanna see this tree of yours, Jack. Come on, show me." 

It was more than a small accomplishment when footsteps began to fall on the grass behind me and the two of us made our way into the trees. 

"You've kind of, be careful, you've kind of gotta watch your step," you warned gently as the ground beneath us became more and more unkempt. You were right, too; the groundskeepers definitely did not pay much attention to the clusters of woods. Gnarled roots twisted through the ground and weeds brushed against my knees as we walked. "The easiest way is to walk on top of the roots, so you don't catch your foot and trip." 

You passed me on my left, more confident in your footwork than I was in mine, and led me deeper through the trees. The glaring rays of light from the sunset were gone as we came just deep enough into the woods to block out any view of the park behind us. Watching you practically dance over the floor of the little forest had absorbed all of my attention as I followed you. 

"This is it," you announced, raising your arms triumphantly at the base of a thick tree. "There's... There's really no reason this one is my favorite. It's just got a good branch about halfway up for settling down on." My gaze followed the point of your finger, and you were right. About halfway up rested a thick branch, devoid of uncomfortable bark and slightly curved to fit someone's body. You smiled, proud of your find, and swung a foot up onto a divot in the side of the tree to push yourself just high enough to catch the lowest branch in your hand. 

"Follow my feet," you said. "You've gotta see the view." 

Fuck, now you wanted me to climb a tree? 

It was a lot harder of a climb than I had expected. Having to pull myself up a tree was not something that I usually found myself doing on Tuesdays. You, however, scaled the branches from memory with ease. Reaching the goal before I did, you straddled the branch and encouraged me until I was right beneath you. At that point, you offered me your hand and pulled me up, finishing the last stretch of our climb together.

"Sit with your back against the trunk," you suggested. "I'm used to balancing on this branch, I'd hate if you fell out or something."

I straddled the branch as you had, following your direction as my back pressed against the body of the tree. You dramatically exhaled with a smile, pretending to be much more exhausted than you were, which was proportionate to how exhausted I actually was. Where did you get all of this energy?

"Hey, look that way," You said, and as your directions were followed, a smile spread across my face.

We were just high up enough to have a good view of the park beneath us, lit up by lamplights as the sun had set a few minutes before. Families still scattered the grounds. Our view stretched over the entire park, even as expansive as it was. The trees lining the edge of the open space blew just slightly in the breeze, the little hills rolling across the ground were covered in small, yellow flowers. 

It's something I'll always remember as spectacular and breathtaking, due less to what we were looking at and more to the fact that you were so proud of having found even a mediocre view of a shitty park in Los Angeles. Your ability to appreciate even the smallest things with childish wonder filled me with happiness. I looked back over at you, your face dimly lit by the streetlights below us.

"Now look up," you said, in a voice that was more hushed than it needed to be. 

This time, I was properly impressed. 

There weren't many places that a person could find a good view of the stars in Los Angeles, what with the bright lights, but you'd done a pretty damn good job. I leaned back against the tree behind me and settled in to enjoy the view, knowing you were doing the same. After a moment, you broke our appreciative silence. 

"My favorite constellation is Eridanus." 

I tilted my chin back down to give you a curious look, but you were still staring up at the stars. You grinned, coming back down from your study of the stars to shoot me a thoughtful look. 

"Where is it?" I asked, genuinely curious. 

"It's over Africa or some shit," You mused, sounding a bit disappointed. "I've only seen pictures of it, but it's a lot prettier than the Big Dipper." I watched you settle back on your hands, pressing the weight of your body onto the branch behind you. As you leaned back and tilted your head backwards, your feet began to swing beneath us. "I want to go see it someday," you finished. 

"I'm sure you will, Jack. Fuck it, we'll go together! Someday we'll go see your constellation in Africa-or-some-shit." 

You smiled, still leaning backwards and studying the view above us. 

"Shut up, Mark." Not bothering to switch your position or even look down at me, we fell back into a comfortable silence. We passed the time in our own worlds, ignoring the shouts in the distance of your friends searching for us. 

You watched the stars, and I watched you.

**Koi No Yokan: _The sense one has upon spending time with a person and knowing that a future love between you is inevitable._ **


End file.
